Between the Stones
by FriendlyCurse
Summary: Portland is a large city and strange occurrences aren't all that strange. Zell didn't notice the connections at first but now the life of someone he cares about is on the line. He has to figure out how to save her and possibly many others before it's too late.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh my god, Zell!" Casey groaned, setting his usual coffee and pie on the table. "I don't know why you like the forest so much!"

He looked up at her, a little surprised by the random outburst. "There's a lot of interesting things out there. Why wouldn't I?"

"It's so _gross!_ " She whined. "You're always talking about it so I went for a jog on one of the trails this morning. I got chewed on by bugs, stared at by creepy people and birds and then there was that _smell._ "

"Fresh air?" He grinned. "Most people find it pleasant."

"No! My cousin is a mechanic and once he spilled a bunch of oil on an engine he was working on. It smelled like _that_. Seriously, I'm going to stick to the gym where it's nice and safe."

"Burnt oil?" He frowned, remembering hearing something about that. "Why were people staring at you?"

She smirked. "You really have to ask? You'd stare too if you saw me jogging. It was mostly this one guy, though. He seriously freaked me out."

"If you want protection next time all you have to do is ask. I'll watch your back." He winked.

"I'm sure you will." She gave him a copy smile and headed for the next customer. Zell had trouble _not_ watching as the cheerleader sauntered away.

Finally he pulled up his laptop and searched for the burnt oil she mentioned. Uneasy with the results, he checked a few related signs and his concern deepened. There had been a surge in the owl population over the last few months. There had also been a noticeable rise in violent crimes against women.

He finished his pie as fast as he could, not letting a crumb go to waste. Once he'd finished he left enough to cover the tab as well as a good tip and hurried out. If his guess was right, the door to the Black Lodge was open... and one of the spirits had his sights on Casey.

Zell watched the sky as the Dodge Challenger roared down the road to his house. Owls weren't to be trusted and now that he was looking he realized there was always at least one perched within sight. They had been watching Casey, the sort of girl often targeted by one of the Black Lodge spirits. Young and pretty.

It bothered him that he didn't know much about it. He knew it wasn't a safe place and he'd heard some rumors of occasional appearances by the spirits here and there. His mentor had admitted to knowing about the Black Lodge and its counterpart the White Lodge but refused to give him more information than was strictly necessary. He had the foresight to make sure any friend or ally who might have similar knowledge knew to keep quiet about it around his over-enthusiastic apprentice. Zell had to admit that was probably wise at the time. He was a dumb kid and the opportunity to explore a strange world on another dimensional plane would have been irresistable.

Now it was a problem. He needed to know more about the spirits, needed to know how to close the portal and save Casey. He wasn't even sure how much time he had to work with. As he hopped out of the car it occurred to him he might be overreacting. Owls show up when there is need and the weather being what it had been lately, the rodents were plentiful. Maybe someone crashed their dirt bike in the woods that morning to account for the smell, scorched oil might have been on some of the plants. She had a good point about attracting attention, too. The girl took good care of herself and knew how to best display it.

He was either jumping to conclusions or Casey's life was in danger. Needing an answer he headed for his collection. Something he'd picked up the month before had proven invaluable and he had every intention of making use of it now.

Zell went to the appropriate shelf and picked up the Magic 8 Ball. It had been shuffled off from one disgruntled or scared owner to another for a long time. It only gave four answers. In spite of the standard icosahedron floating in the liquid inside there was no variation from the four. Yes, No, Maybe, and Unknown. That accounted for the disgruntled owners who wanted the more amusing variety. The scared folks are the ones who learned that it is never wrong. About anything.

"Am I overreacting?" He asked, turning the ball to expose the answer.

No.

"Is Casey in danger?"

Yes.

"Shit…" He sighed and spun the ball again. "Will I stop them in time?"

Unknown.

That did nothing to set him at ease and he found himself regretting even asking. He'd rather have had the false certainty he would have proceeded with.

Two hours of arguing with his mentor over the phone had finally gotten him a few answers and more warnings than he cared to count. The smell was most often found near the entrance to the Black Lodge and the door was usually only open for a short time. 'Short' being subjective. Anywhere from weeks to months and it was different depending on where you were. There were no numbers available for Portland's window since it was rare this one became active.

The most active of the spirits that dwelled within was a cruel man named Bob. He was known to stalk, rape and kill young women though the exact reason was unknown. A few had gone into the Black Lodge to learn more but none had returned. A fact that was mentioned multiple times by Alzabar. It was a one way trip and he needed to do what he could to avoid it. The entrance was likely to be located near a circular formation. A ring of rocks or trees was most common, usually with a depression in the middle. There was usually a puddle containing the liquid that smelled like oil.

He was also warned about the owls, the Black Lodge spies. What they knew, the spirits knew. After swearing over and over again he wasn't going to go into the Lodge, he finally hung up and sighed. Find the circle in the forest, stop Bob, figure out how to close the Black Lodge. Easy, right?

A glance at the clock told him he needed to get some rest. There wasn't much he could do this late. Hunting a normal creature in the dark was fine but this was something else, the rules were different. There was only one spirit associated with the Black Lodge that Alzabar had admitted was probably good, likely a White Lodge watchdog of sorts. The Giant. A few reports had been found of him attempting to help but it seemed like his hands were tied and he could do little more than offer vague warnings and hints.

Irritable and worried, it took him hours to quiet his mind enough for sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning he texted Casey to make sure she was okay. The response was a terse comment that her alarm wouldn't be going off for another three hours. Zell grinned, grabbed some breakfast and ate on the way to the forest. He knew what he was looking for would be near a jogging trail but there were a lot of those in the area. He started down the first that seemed the type to get her attention. It was shorter than the rest and more developed than some of the others. Nicer paths and more flowers.

It wasn't until the fourth trail, one of the longer ones that was less used, he got a whiff of the distinctive smell. He left the path, dodged a small fairy ring and kept going as the smell got stronger. Finally he came to a roughly circular cluster of mossy boulders. The foul smelling liquid was pooled between a few at the center.

As he neared the air grew dense and he thought he saw ripples of something more around the edges but it was faint. Shaking his head, he turned and headed back, marking the location on his GPS. One step down.

Now he just had to find Bob. Alzabar had described him but pointed out it wouldn't do a lot of good. He was a spirit and able to possess people. This was the primary reason he encouraged Zell to leave this situation alone and send Casey on a cruise for a couple of weeks to get her out of town. If Bob possessed _him_ he could do a lot of damage in a short amount of time. With access to Zell's collection he could set some devastating chaos in motion.

He couldn't just turn a blind eye, though. There were a lot of young women in Portland. Even if he saved Casey by getting her out of the guy's reach how could he be expected to just _accept_ that others would die in her place. There was no way he could justify it, he had to try if only for his own peace of mind.

* * *

He stopped by the diner for coffee and to check on Casey but Dellah informed him it was her day off. It was not quite what he'd hoped to hear since she'd be safer in this busy place. As he drank his coffee he texted the girl a warning to watch out for the creepy guy and call if she saw him again.

She responded back that Portland was full of creepy guys but she'd let him know if she saw the one from the forest. It didn't make him feel much better that she was handling it all with a good sense of humor. On the other hand, impressing the seriousness of the situation might not help. She wasn't able to take things in stride very well yet. Walking up to her and letting her know she may well be targeted by an immortal serial killer wasn't something he saw ending well.

He had to find Bob, figure out who he was possessing and stop him. Somehow. Zell sighed in frustration. Where to begin? Finding someone who has been acting unusual for the last couple of weeks in a city this size was beyond impossible. His best hope was tracking down Casey and keeping an eye on her. He was pretty sure he'd be yelled at and punched a few times by just about everyone he knew for using the cheerleader as bait but there weren't many options.

He made his way to her house but her vehicle was gone. Another text and he found out she was at the mall with friends. With an inward cringe, he turned his car that way and tempted fate by driving as fast as he could. He took as many side roads as possible to avoid most of the heavy traffic and circled the parking lot twice before he found where she parked. He texted again asking for her location in the mall but she was taking her time getting back to him.

"Just trying on clothes…" He muttered to himself, texting again. Another ten minutes of silence crawled by as he watched an owl staring back at him from atop a light post. "Screw this."

He headed inside, calling instead of texting this time. It rang until voicemail picked up and his stomach tied in a knot. She never ignored him like this. Not if she had a choice. He did a quick check of the stores he knew she liked then hurried back to his car. Hers was still there. Bob must have beat him to her.

He popped the trunk and pulled the Slim Jim from its hiding place. Magic was handy but why waste the effort when practical means we're just as easy. He quickly had her car unlocked and dug through the center console until he found the inevitable hairbrush. Thanking whatever gods were listening for her vanity, he pulled a few hairs from it and returned to his car to work a spell that would let him track her.

His phone was a lifesaver and this was one of those times it wasn't metaphorical. When the spell was complete there was a marker on his GPS showing her location. He pushed his luck again as he raced toward the marker but it wasn't anywhere near the mall. Even driving fast there was enough traffic and the city was large enough Bob had a couple hours head start. That made him nervous.

He finally located the winding road on the edge of town that would lead him to the marked place. When he checked again to locate which of the widely spaced houses it was the mark was gone.

" _No!_ " His attention snapped back to the road and ice flowed through his veins. He looked for anything out of place along the road and made note of any vehicle he saw. He was too late to save her but he wouldn't let Bob kill again. This had been happening for too long and he _would_ put a stop to it. He would avenge Casey.

The Challenger screeched to a halt when he saw a shiny red truck, a well cared for newer model, parked on the far side of a boarded up old cabin. Phone in hand, he jumped out and headed around to the back of the house. The front door was obviously undisturbed so it had to be the back that was serving as access.

As expected there were signs of forced entry and he made himself slow down, listening for movement inside. He had to find the bastard and trap him. Killing wouldn't do any good since the possessing spirit would just escape and start again.

Zell eased the door open, listening for movement as he crept into the dusty house. The smell of neglect was strong, mold and rotting wood made it hard to breathe. He could see in the dust where something had been dragged through. _Casey..._

As he followed the trail the smell of blood grew and his stomach turned. He was almost to the door where the drag marks turned when there was a flash of light and pain exploded in his head. He dropped to his knees but halted there as someone grabbed his ponytail and wrenched his head back.

"You wanna play with fire?" The man asked, his voice a low and amused whisper beside Zell's ear. There was no chance to respond before there was another burst of pain followed by darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

He woke to pain and discomfort. When he tried to move there was a tell-tale rattle at his wrists. Handcuffs. He opened his eyes and looked around the back of the motionless police cruiser. Outside he could see the strobing of lights on the trees.

Sitting up was a struggle but once he was upright he took in the scene with a sinking feeling. Three cop cars, an ambulance, fire truck and a lot of people casting dark glares in his direction. Once they noted he was awake one of the cops headed over and pulled the door open, already reciting the Miranda rights.

What followed was many hours of unpleasantness and frustration. The paramedics had patched him up but his head still hurt like hell. He was questioned, subjected to crime scene pictures that tore at his heart, and badgered for a confession to the rape and murder of one of his friends.

It didn't help that he knew they wouldn't believe he used magic to track her. They found the board he had been knocked out with near Casey, her prints on it. If he didn't do it how did he know she was there? Why had she hit him? Why were his prints on the murder weapon? Zell was trapped in a nightmare. There was no way to explain his presence that the cops would believe. What they _could_ believe was that he was a rich young man who spent time around a college girl and sometimes young men didn't like taking no for an answer.

When he finally got a chance to make his phone call he debated briefly then called Garrett. He dreaded talking to Dellah. _'Hi, Dellah, how are you? I'm the primary suspect in the brutal murder of one of our mutual friends.'_

He cringed, she was going to be devastated. Garrett was a little easier to talk to though asking him to bring one hundred thousand dollars to bail him out elicited a less than cheerful response. He swore the money would be reimbursed and that he'd explain what happened as soon as they were done with the paperwork to get him out of jail.

A few hours later they were in Garrett's car and his friend was sitting tense behind the wheel, staring at the dark dials, oblivious to the glares Zell was getting from the cops passing by. They would be keeping an eye on him and if he tried to leave the city they'd have him right back in a cell.

" _Murder_ , Zell? They arrested you for _murder?!"_

"I didn't do it. You know me better than that." He protested, hurt that his friend would consider it even for a moment. "I almost caught the murderer but he snuck up behind me. I'm being framed. They'll figure that out... after a few tests..."

He shuddered and sat back in the seat, closing his eyes. "I didn't get there fast enough... I tried... I really did... If I hadn't wasted time waiting for her... I should have tried tracking her right away. If I hadn't wasted time I would have been there before..."

"Who did it?" Garrett asked, his voice soft and pained. "How did you even know to go looking for her?"

"There's an old legend... have you heard of the Black Lodge?" He asked with a sigh.

"I've seen it mentioned in a few obscure texts." Garrett admitted. "It's seen in some Native American mythology. The White Lodge is a place for those pure in spirit, Black Lodge for those corrupted."

"Yeah... It isn't a myth. A Black Lodge spirit has gotten loose. This one seems to escape every decade or so, kill some women like this then disappear for a while. His name is Bob and he's possessing someone. I don't know what he looks like, he was behind me. I know what he drives... or at least what he _was_ driving. Chances are he's the one who called the police but I can't just ask them who called in a tip. He's smart but doesn't have to care... If he gets caught he can just release his hold on whoever he's possessing and pick someone new. We need to figure out a way to trap him permanently."

"You realize how insane that sounds?" Garrett sighed, shaking his head.

"Yeah. Truth often sounds insane. I didn't do that, though... I could never hurt someone like that - especially not a friend." His voice caught in his throat as the memory of those pictures came back. He almost hadn't recognized her. Zell had been in some of the pictures, too. Bob dragged him from the hall and left him with a bloody knife in one hand. It looked like Casey had struck him with a board in a last desperate act as he made the fatal cuts that left her bleeding out on the filthy mattress.

He wanted nothing more than to destroy Bob. As much effort as he put toward helping spirits and sentient items, he didn't believe this one could be redeemed. He didn't _deserve_ another chance. How many decades, how many centuries had he been doing this? It would be almost impossible to tell how long the spirit had been alive. Torturing and killing innocent young women, spreading fear and pain.

"Are you going to be okay" Garrett asked, lightly brushing Zell's cheek. It was only then he realized he was crying.

"No..." He whispered. "...he's still out there. The police can't catch the one who did this. They will capture the body that did it but not the one who actually wanted to. He'll get away with it again... and he's got the police watching me close enough it will be difficult to track him down without them thinking I'm the monster just looking for another victim."

"Can't you... summon him or something?" Garrett asked as he finally started the car and turned them toward Zell's house. "I hear that can be done with spirits."

"In theory." Zell nodded, trying to push the horrible images out of his head. "But the only name I have for him is 'Bob' and it probably isn't his true name. There isn't enough information available..."

"So how do we find him?" Garrett asked.

" _We?_ " Zell sat up and frowned at him. "No, there is no 'we'. I don't want you involved any more than is absolutely necessary. After you drop me off I want you to get out of town for a while. I'm going to send Calanyx away, too. I need to figure something out but I need to know everyone is safe."

"What about Dellah?"

"If I thought for a moment I could convince her to go on vacation I would. All I can do is try to figure out an alternate way to protect her." He fell back in the seat again.

"You shouldn't deal with this alone, Zell. I'm hardly a young woman, I should be safe."

"I don't want to take chances. There are too many unknowns and I'm not going to lose any more friends." He almost relaxed as his house came into view, the nice and safe old family mansion. If she was on schedule Calanyx would be there working and he could arrange some excuse to get her away before Bob noticed her.

He made his way into the comfortable familiarity of the house. Calanyx was exactly where he expected to find her, going over therapy notes to see which items needed extra attention. He dropped into a chair and closed his eyes as he tried to sort out everything needing done on both a mundane and occult level.

"Where've you been?" Calanyx asked. After a moment where he could feel her eyes on him she spoke again. "You look horrible and… is that ink on your fingers?"

"Yeah… listen, something bad is going on and I need you to get out of town for a while." He said with a sigh.

"What? No way! I want to stay and help!" She protested indignantly.

"Not this time. I'm serious." He said, standing and making his way to the computer. It wasn't easy to tune out her questions and arguments but he managed. Finally he located a convention that would be of interest. He got her registered, airplane tickets purchased and a nice hotel room reserved.

"Zell… that's cheating…" Her irritation and longing were obvious as she watched over his shoulder. "Seriously? You're going to make me go have fun while you deal with some creepy crawly here?"

"It's… a really bad creepy crawly." Zell muttered as she began to get jittery with the excitement of the lectures she'd be attending. "Go get packed. You've got a few hours before the flight and a couple of days before the start of the convention. I'll give you some spending money and arrange to have more sent if needed but I don't want you coming back until I give the all-clear, okay?"

"It's really that bad?" She asked, her excitement fading as she realized just how severe this would have to be.

Zell looked back at the keyboard and nodded. "Yes… it's really that bad. It killed Casey."

"Wait, what?" Calanyx stared at him in shock for a moment before punching his arm. "You couldn't tell me that first? You just run in and arrange to send me off for a week of fun like nothing bad happened?!"

"Sorry," he shrugged and looked up at her with concern. "I know you two didn't get along and it's not my top priority. There's a chance her murderer will go after you if you stick around. I'm not taking chances."

She grabbed his hand and looked at the ink stains he hadn't been able to scrub out yet. "And this?"

"The murderer is trying to frame me. It won't work. I wasn't quite fast enough to save her and he knocked me out then called the cops. I know it looks bad at first but they'll figure out that I was being honest when I told them I was trying to find them to stop him. The point is it's not safe here and I want you far enough that you won't be caught up in this."

"What about my mom?" She demanded, fear rising.

"She should be safe. The killer targets young women." He reassured her and stood. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

A couple hours later he was home and trying to find some way to track Bob. He'd told Calanyx's mother that the convention was sure to improve her grades so the offer was accepted with minimal concern. Anything without a strong intellectual purpose would have likely been met with her forbidding her daughter from missing classes.

He wanted to believe Calanyx would be returning after the convention but as he eliminated spell after spell, one possibility after another, he started to worry she may be stuck there longer than planned.


End file.
